Tom Hardy Character Imagines

A Life Worth Living- Ronnie Kray x OFC

Rosalie Violet Kray was born in the early hours of a Tuesday morning in late spring; the time of year when the morning sky is painted in vibrant shades of pink and orange and the birds chirp their dawn chorus. It was to that very dawn chorus that after fifteen hours of watching his wife labour, Ronnie Kray became a father for the first time. And most probably the last time if he was being honest with himself, because he didn't think he could ever bear to see the woman he loved in that much pain again. It had been fucking tortuous.

To Vera though, nothing had been quite as tortuous as Ronnie's behaviour since her daughter had come into the world. He had been a nightmare when she was pregnant but now that the baby was here he was even worse. He refused to go to the club; refused to leave her side; refused to help Reggie do anything. He pulled a face if anyone came round and held the baby; well apart from his mother of course, but even Reggie was subject to a scowl and supervision from his brother while he stood at the sink and washed his hands to Ronnie's satisfaction. Then when Reggie did have hold of little Rosalie, Ronnie would tell his brother he was holding her incorrectly and then snatch her off of him.

"Ron, I do know how to hold a fucking baby," Reggie would roll his eyes. "I've had three."

"Oh really?" Ronnie would narrow his own eyes. "'Cause you're holding my baby girl like she's a fucking football, mate."

The sad truth of the matter was that even after everyone had left and it was just the two of them, Ronnie's eagle eyes would watch everything Vera did as well.

"Are you sure you're not fastening that nappy a bit too tight?"

"Don't you think it's too cold in here for her not to have her blanket?"

"Isn't it a bit too hot for that blanket?"

"Should the Moses basket really be underneath the window? What if someone throws a brick through it and she gets hurt?"

"I don't think it's a good idea to have it over there by the fireplace in case a bird comes down the chimney."

"Are you sure you're feeding her right? Her nose looks a little squashed against your tit, you know. Are you sure she can breathe like that?"

That final one had been the icing on the cake, and Vera had curtly told Ronnie that perhaps when he produced milk he could have a say on how to correctly feed the baby but until then he better keep his mouth shut.

"I could murder you and blame it on hormones and get away with it," she had pursed her lips. "In fact, the police would probably give me some sort of medal for doing them a favour."

Ronnie's lips had twitched at that, and he kissed the top of Vera's head before disappearing to make her a cup of tea.

After that day he calmed down more with her, although everyone else still got the Ronnie treatment when they came to visit. And heaven help anyone who dared to approach the pram when they were out for a walk.

It was a common tradition for people to put a silver coin in a newborn baby's hand and the people of the east end were eager to continue that tradition when it came to little Rosalie Kray. However, Ronnie behaved as though they were about to brush her palm with a bullet and not just a silver coin. Vera actually thought he was about to snap poor old Mrs Best's fragile little wrist just the other day but luckily she'd heard how over protective Ronnie was over his child and was prepared. She held out her hand and passed the coin to Ronnie, stating that it would be just as lucky if he placed the coin in the baby's palm instead of her.

The days and weeks passed and very slowly Ronnie seemed to calm down a little. He had even left Vera and Rosalie both for an hour here or there to attend to business at the club. However, Vera hadn't realised that her husband sat up night after night watching over Rosalie while she slept. Not until she woke up to go to the toilet one night and gasped when she saw him stood over the Moses basket beside her.